Our First Night Together
The first part of this story was written as a stand-alone, one-part story. So many folks wrote in wanting to hear more about Steve's story that we agreed to go ahead and tell more by starting from the moments in the car along the side of the highway as the two of them talked, and then follow them from there. So this second part begins before the end of the first part, if you follow me. LOL. This chapter goes on telling Steve's Tale, which is summarized in the ending of the first chapter. The next chapters cover the next couple of days.
The rain started pouring down, and I closed the door. He scooted further away from me, as if to give me some space. I put my pack in the back seat.
"I am sorry. I didn't know they really would. I thought they would talk big and chicken out."
I didn't know what to say to him. I was beginning to believe him, for sure. He looked sorry, that was certain. He almost looked like he was going to cry.
"I'll take you to the cops, if you want. I'll even admit to it. I don't care. I deserve it. For what I did."
I couldn't help but think he was the only one that hadn't been mean or forceful, and here he was, ready to go to jail for it.
"You headed to Indy? I can take you there, if you want. Anywhere. Just name it."
He kept his eyes forward, looking out of the windshield at the rain running down it, or the tail lights of the traffic going by us on the highway.
I think it was mostly how sad he looked, but the idea of going to the cops wasn't possible. Not with him. Not if it put him in trouble. He was decent back at the warehouse, compared to the others at least.
He gripped the steering wheel and wrung his hands on it. I could see how tense and tight he was.
I wondered what he was trying to say. It was obviously hard for him to say it.
"If, you're really gay... and if you're interested, I mean..."
I wasn't sure, but I thought he was coming on to me.
"We could go to my place."
He glanced at me really quickly, then back out the windshield.
"Are you serious?"
I hadn't even thought of the question at all, but I'd asked it suddenly. I wished I had said it better, less skeptical, but it was too late to change it.
"I am, very, honest," he said really quickly, still wringing that steering wheel. "I'm sorry I let them. I probably couldn't have stopped them, but I could have tried, I guess. I mean, I thought they'd just talk and shit. I didn't know they really would. I only went along because..."
"Because, I like you. And... I've liked you for a while. I just... I don't have a clue how to talk about it. At all. I mean, how do you tell a guy... that, you think he's hot?"
He hit the steering wheel.
He called me hot? I thought. I was so stunned. It seemed so impossible. What a stupid idea.
"I've liked you for a couple years. I just... I don't have your fucking guts!"
"It wasn't guts! I was scared to fucking death! I was just so fucking sick of lying about it!"
He looked at me for the first time, and he was so obviously hurting.
"You're... really gay? Too?" I asked.
"You, really... like me?"
He nodded, and I was sure he was shaking.
"I have the apartment over the garage. Let me take you home. And prove it, Steve. Please."
I was so stunned! His expression was full of what I can only call pleading. It was like a little kid begging his parent for a special toy or reward. Or a convict asking for forgiveness.
Something inside of me tingled at the thought. Jared was very cute. I'd had an eye on him for a long time, like a few other classmates. He was tall and strong, muscled from athletics, and kept himself in shape even in the off season. My eyes were drawn to the tall guys. The ones with muscles, but not bulging masses of them. That I liked guys taller than me meant that I had few choices. I was nearly the tallest in my class, so there weren't many, but Jared was one of them.
I was six feet tall, and one-hundred and fifty pounds at most. I usually stayed under that weight. I had sandy-blond hair that curled tightly, and if I tried to comb it, it just got worse. I had almost no muscle tone. I didn't exercise, except what I had to do in gym. I was kind of a dork, too. I had a large nose that I hated, which owned my long, narrow head and face. A narrow chin that I hated. Thin, weak, almost invisible eyebrows, that I hated, over boring brown eyes, that I fucking hated. My only decent traits were good lips and no acne. I liked my lips. They were dark and, well, luscious. I was given great lips and complexion. That's about it. Okay, one other thing. I wasn't lacking in the pants. I wasn't totally skinny, so I had a nice ass. I liked how it looked in the right pants. And out front, well, seven inches looks enormous on a skinny body like mine. That, and my almost freakishly large nuts, filled out almost any pants I owned. I guess jerking off several times a day since I was old enough to have an erection worked them out like a muscle group. I'm surprised I didn't have forearms like Popeye. Or hair everywhere. Another thing I like about myself, one of the few things, is that I'm not hairy. Other than my pits and bush, I was almost totally hairless. Some on my lower legs, but not much, and it's hard to see because it's about the same color as my skin.
He was cute. I'd always thought so. He had that round, perfect kind of head and face. Dark brown hair with streaks of lighter shades all through it. He kept it short, except in back, where it almost touched his collar. His round face was dominated by his intense eyes. They were a soft silver, gray really, but so light that silver fit their description better. Big, dark lashes, too, that showed up really well. Cute, round nose, strong cheekbones, and a firm, almost wide jaw. And lips that were so perfect, they belonged in advertising or at least on television or in movies. I mean, luscious just didn't do it. They were plump and wide, and the upper one had a perfect heart shape under his nose. And the lower one was thicker in the center, and almost didn't exist at the edges. And when he smiled, they looked like something from a painting. He worked out, and it showed. His arms had muscles even when they were relaxed, but when he gripped that steering wheel and wrung his hands on it, they rippled and moved like liquid poetry. I knew he had chest hair, as sometimes he wore shirts that revealed the highest of it. And some of his shirts were tight enough to reveal his strong pecs and abs. And all of his pants showed he had a great ass and packed the front really well. I had seen him in the showers in freshman year, and again last year. His long fingers didn't lie. And what he had gently put into my mouth in the old warehouse had been huge, even though it hadn't been really hard.
If I had to choose one guy from school to have sex with, Jared would make the final cut, easily. Maybe not the final choice, maybe so, but he was certainly one of the hottest. And he was sitting next to me, in his car, telling me that he was gay, too, and liked me, wanted to take me home to prove it.
I kept wondering if it was another setup. If he was planning on taking me somewhere, maybe even his place, to be done over again by him and his friends. I hated that thought. I wanted him to like me, to be gay, to want me, to take me home and to be together alone. But even if it was a setup, I didn't care. I'd survived the first, and even gotten to like it. I was willing to go again. So long as it wasn't worse, or they didn't beat me, or hurt me, I'd go along.
What do I have to lose? I thought.
I nodded. His eyes got huge. He looked like I had told him I had already screwed my way though every guy at school. Then he grinned.
"Really?" he asked, like that same kid being told he could have that toy.
Or that same convict being told he was forgiven.
I nodded again, smiling, mostly at how his smile made me feel.
"I swear! I'll be as careful as you want! We can do whatever you want!"
I laughed. It was crazy! One of the cutest guys at school was all excited that I wanted to go home with him. I felt like ten million dollars in small bills.
"Put on your seatbelt. I don't want to have an accident and you get hurt."
It stormed like hell all the way back into town. The muscles in his arms worked as he turned the car around corners, and that made me feel almost weak. When the lights swept across him, and I could see a prominent shape along the side of his thigh, I knew he was hard, too.
I felt my stomach twinge and fall. My breath started increasing. I started sweating. Tingles started up all over me, like goose bumps in the inside. It was crazy.
He pulled into the new subdivision on the edge of town, and then into one of the blocks with the largest houses in town. He pulled into one with a four car garage, with windows above, connected to the house by a covered walkway. He parked the car inside on the end, then looked over at me, all cute and red-faced. I felt myself blushing just as much. We snickered like kids doing something their parents would yell at them for. It felt exciting and fun.
"You sure?" he asked really gently.
I nodded, not totally sure, but sure willing to find out. I knew he could call his friends and they could rape me again. I didn't know if I'd mind or not. I'd just have to start walking to Indy all over again later.
I followed him to the door in the back corner, which led to stairs upward. His room took up the entire area above the garage. It was an actual apartment, with a small kitchen area with all the appliances, a door that led to a full bathroom in one corner, and another door to a bedroom in the other corner, both sharing a wall, and far from the house. It was all grays, whites, creams, and blacks. Even the furnishings. It was soothing and warm. I loved it.
I stood by the door, not knowing what to do or say. I felt so awkward. We kind of snickered and shuffled our feet. I moved my bag to my other hand, as that shoulder was sore.
"You're all wet. You got clothes in that bag?"
I nodded, probably as red as ever.
"There's towels in the bathroom. Go ahead. I'll change in the..."
He turned to sort of point at the bedroom, then sort of looked as embarrassed as hell. It was kind of cute.
I nodded, then hurriedly retreated to the bathroom. It was all grays and blacks, with white and cream accents. I loved it. Either he had great tastes that matched mine, or his parents, or their decorator. I watched myself in the mirror as I undressed, wondering what he liked about me. All I thought was decent were my lips and ass. Otherwise, I was boring, or just plain dull.
I got my wet clothes off, and my skin prickled. That itchy sensation from the rain and my damp clothes was hard to get rid of. I had to have a shower. I asked. He said, "Sure." I took a very fast one, in very hot water, and I felt so much better. The shoulder was sore, and I had to watch how I moved it. When I moved my arm over my head, or anywhere near, it hurt like hell. Drying my hair with one arm was awkward. When I got into clean clothes, I almost felt okay. I was almost hard the entire time. I couldn't stop thinking about his body, and what we were possibly going to do. I hoped we did something, because I was horny as fucking hell. And my whacking arm was sore.
I put on my newest briefs, best jeans, and favorite shirt. I didn't have much clothes, and I had bought them myself with money I had swiped from my parents while they were passed out. I didn't bother with socks or my shoes. I did bother with deodorant, and hesitated about the cologne. I ended up spritzing myself with it really lightly. Then I brushed my teeth. I tried to straighten my hair, but it would have none of that, as usual. It was darker while wet, too. My guts were swimming. I had weird tingles running up and down my back. I swallowed a few times, working up the guts to walk out there.
I wondered what he was doing. I wondered if he was calling his friends and telling them that it was time for round two. I wondered a million things.
Only one way to find out, I said to myself in the mirror.
I sighed, held another breath, picked up my bag, and opened the door.
I smelled something awesome. Spicy and tomato-based. My mouth began watering instantly and my stomach growled. I hadn't eaten since lunch at school.
I'm out of school! I suddenly realized. No more teasing. No more, "Fag!" or "Cock sucker!" No more pink-paper hearts taped to my locker. Or cocks.
I felt like that same ten million dollars, but in gold coins this time.
I'm free from that hell hole!
"Hope you like italian," he said, sitting at the small table in the open kitchen.
"Who don't?" I asked.
"Put your bag by the wall there, I guess. Or wherever."
He stood up and worked at the stove as I dropped my bag and walked as carefully toward the table as I could. He had on light blue jeans, the ones that were kind of baggy and loose. They made his ass even more attractive, and did a decent job of hiding his package. I knew he was trying not to show off. The loose shirt hid his upper body well, except that he rolled up the long sleeves, which made his forearm muscles visible as they flowed under the skin while he worked with the pans on the stove.
I sat down, trying to be comfortable. He didn't look around as he talked.
"I know... I know I said, we'd, well... if you don't want to, I'm fine with that. You can sleep on the bed and I'll use the couch. I fall asleep on it all the time, anyway. The bedroom door locks. And there's a fire escape out the window, so you can slip out any time you want. If you want. Okay?"
I nodded. But since he didn't look behind him, he couldn't have seen. I cleared my throat.
"This is leftovers, but it's better than nothing, I guess. It's really good, even better as leftovers, really."
He poured the red sauce over two plates of spaghetti noodles, then brought them to the table.
"I've got sodas, or beer?"
"I think a beer would kick ass. I could really use it."
He nodded, wearing that cute, embarrassed grin still. I watched his ass as he pulled two bottles from the fridge. He opened both and put one on the table by my plate. The food smelled great. I wanted to dig into it like a starving orphan. Instead, I picked up the beer and sipped. It wasn't as bitter as I was used to. My shoulder complained.
"Saint Pauly Girl?"
"Best. Not so nasty like the shit you get around the parties."
It was, too. I took three good, long swallows. He sat down and started eating, so I did. It was so good! The food my mom cooked was bland and boring. This tasted like someone cared when they made it. And the noodles weren't mushy.
We ended up smiling and giggling at each other.
"Thanks," I finally remembered to say.
"Welcome. I haven't ate since lunch. And the food today sucked worse than normal."
"I know! It's like the old ladies in the kitchen didn't give a fuck. Last day, I guess."
"Probably all the crap left over from beginning of the year they had to get rid of."
I laughed, almost choking on the beer.
"Sorry," he said, obviously really meaning it.
"Don't. It was a good one."
We were quiet for a few bites, grinning and taking glances at each other.
"I'm really sorry."
"I know," I said, finally really believing him.
"I wish I had done something. Or said something."
He put down his fork, almost as if he were mad. He looked mad.
"Hey, Jared. It's okay. You didn't know. I believe you. And they didn't hurt me. Just my shoulder."
"How is it?"
"Hurts. Not bad, though. Just have to move it kinda slow."
"Did it pop? When he... did that?"
I could hear his voice raise a little. I didn't know exactly why, but it did, and obviously.
"Yeah," I almost whispered.
"Can you raise it over your head?"
"Hell no," I said emphatically.
"Let me see it?"
"I know muscles, and joints. I'm taking sports med at I.U. in the fall."
"I heard you had a football scholarship. Partial one, anyway."
"Yeah, but gotta study something," he laughed. "Besides, I like sports med."
He was blushing so badly I guessed why he liked it. I laughed.
I nodded, trying not to grin too much. And hoping he didn't notice what was going on in my pants at the idea of him touching me. He stood up and walked behind me. His hands went to my shoulder and he gently felt around it.
I laughed. It wasn't the only thing swollen.
He squeezed the muscles around the end of my shoulder and I winced.
"Hurt badly? Or a sharp, short pain?'
"Sharp and short. Like a stabbing."
"How far can you lift it out sideways? Keep your arm and elbow straight."
Not far, it turned out.
"Yeah. Like it's got a baby's muscles."
"He pulled the muscles and tendons. Fucker."
He cupped his hand over it and pulled the skin upward, dragging the muscles below along with it. It felt so good! The pressure I had gotten used to was suddenly gone, and that release was almost orgasmic. I sighed like a tree in a strong breeze. My shoulder got all warm.
"Oh, man," I moaned, wanting to melt.
He rubbed that shoulder so gently. It felt so fucking good. My head went back out of instinct, and the back of my head hit him right in the most embarrassing place. He kind of sighed and grunted at the same time. I yanked my head back forward instantly. I had felt something plenty hard with the back of my head.
"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing what else to say.
"My fault. I should have..."
"What? Not helped my shoulder?"
"Not be standing right behind you."
"Not with a rager."
He snickered. I turned my head and looked up behind me. He was bright red, and grinning so cutely. I looked down. His dick was straight up, and so hard it was pushing his jeans out.
"I should have tucked it down, I guess. I got dressed fast. Sorry."
He let go of my shoulder. The pressure came back. I grabbed his hand and put it back.
I laughed, wishing I had phrased it differently. I couldn't look at him now.
He pulled my arm up and put it on the table, then crooked the elbow and turned the palm of my hand down. It hurt as he turned it, but it felt great the second it stopped moving.
"Oh, man, fucking tons better!" I told him.
"You really should have it looked at. The muscle or tendon might need stitched or stapled."
"I got no insurance, or money."
"I can take care of that."
"I don't want you spending money on me. You're not my..."
My parents aren't my parents, I thought. They'd just tell me to man up and get over it, take an aspirin.
"I've got a topical, it'll help. And I'll be right back with a muscle relaxant."
He left before I could tell him not to bother. He was back before I decided if I should take a pill from him or not.
"Take this, and have the rest of that beer. You'll be relaxed in no time. And this will feel great on that."
He rolled the short sleeve up with such care, I thought he would make a great medic. He gently rubbed in a thick, oily cream that made my skin and muscles feel warm and cold at the same time. His touch was firm, even though it was so gentle. He had the right kind of touch, no doubts. I took the pill with a swig of beer.
"That should make the ache less," he said, then washed his hands in the sink.
His butt wiggled as he washed them, and it was almost entrancing. I was dying to see it bare naked. I hoped we got around to it. I was still hard, but got harder instantly. I turned back to the table and finished the beer.
"Want another one?"
"No. Not with that pill. I'll be passed out. Then you'll..."
I laughed, wondering how to finish the sentence without seeming either perverted or leading. I wasn't that kind of bold. Ever.
"I'll have a passed out hottie to undress and put in bed?'
I laughed, really hard.
"You'll have to find one, first," I told him.
He came back, got one knee, and gently and carefully began rolling my short sleeve back down. He kept glancing up at me, and I couldn't stop looking at him. He was so damned cute.
"I did. It took me a couple of years, but I finally did."
"What's his name?"
I laughed, trying to hide how embarrassed and silly I felt.
"I heard he's a... a fag."
"I hope he is. 'Cause I think I could fall for him. Bad."
"My gosh," I blurted.
"Sorry. I don't know what to... say, or do, or..."
He stood up and started toward his chair. I reached out and grabbed his arm, slipped down to his hand, and put it back on my shoulder.
"That felt really good. Can you? Just a little bit more?"
He smiled a winning smile that made me feel all squigly inside. He nodded, went behind me, and started massaging it so gently.
"Let me know if I hit a sore spot."
I nodded, wanting to purr. He knew how to massage a sore muscle. I wanted to find out if his hands were as good on other parts. My guts were swimming again, and even more. I felt like I could melt down into a puddle. I let out a groan by accident, and felt like an idiot.
I said, "Sorry," and he laughed.
"Probably feels good," he said.
"So good," I almost groaned.
I felt so relaxed and mellow, and just plain good.
There was a long pause, and I was about to open my eyes and look at him, and ask him what he wanted.
"What if I said I wanted to take you to the bedroom, take off all your clothes, and massage every square inch of you?"
"Mmm, please," was out before I thought.
My eyes popped open and my head snapped up. I turned my head looked up at him. He was grinning so nicely, and all red-faced and cute. I felt like an idiot. But I realized I meant it.
"Please," I said with far more meaning.
He stood up and helped me up, holding my arm like it was broken. It felt a little silly, but he was being so careful with it, and walking so close that I could smell his cologne.
We kept grinning at each other like idiots, and giggling. And I felt like my stomach was going to turn over and over until it was twisted tight, like a rag being wrung out. My legs felt wobbly. I wondered if it was the pill and the beer alone, or not.
His bedroom was done in darker grays, and his bed was covered in black and gray sheets and pillows. He sat me down on it like I was made out of glass. He held up my arm, keeping the weight off of the shoulder with one hand, and his other brushed some of my long hair away from my forehead. His every movement was slow and deliberate, as if he were afraid any sudden movement would scare me. Then his free arm went around my shoulders and he started leaning in closer.
I had never kissed someone before. I knew he had. He'd been out with at least three girls. I didn't know how far he had gone with any of them, but he seemed to know how to move in for a kiss. By the time his beautiful lips met mine, my heart was racing.
That first touch was like nothing I had felt before, and was more than I ever thought it might be. His warm, soft lips moved against mine, and I tried to copy his movements. In seconds we were breathing hard and moving our lips together, and it was magnificent! He squeezed me with his arm around my shoulders, then stopped.
"Did that hurt your shoulder?"
I hadn't noticed. I shook my head. It hurt to, but I pulled my arm out of his hand and put it around his shoulders, and made him kiss me again. We fell back and his leg went over my thighs. I whimpered. It was weird. Id' never made that sound before, but it felt right.
His hand moved down my chest, over my belly, then under my shirt. His fingers toyed with my hairs at my navel for a few seconds, then moved to the side, where it cupped the curve of my hips and he used it to pull me closer to him. I put my good hand on his chest and felt his pecs and his hard nipples. Mine rarely got hard, but his were like little pebbles. And they felt large.
We were panting like crazy. I loved how he kissed. I didn't know if he was any good or not, but I thought he was incredible. His hand moved from my hip to my belly again, and tickled my treasure trail around my navel. It made me giggle. The he was slipping my shirt off, taking such extreme care with my hurt shoulder. It was so nice having someone being careful with me. Neither of my parents would have cared a bit, or anyone else, but he seemed intent on not hurting me in any way. As soon as my shirt was on the floor, he looked my bare chest over, grinning.
"I love your body," he said softly. "God, it's like so perfect."
"Fuck that! You've got the bod to die for! I'm a skinny runt."
"I must love skinny runts, then!"
He slapped his mouth over one of my nipples and drove me crazy with his tongue. It tickled and more. Tingles exploded out from there to run all over my body. I shivered like I was cold and wet. And I got so hard it hurt. While he licked and sucked that nipple, his hand moved down my bare front until it was at the button on my jeans, and he opened it. I thought I might cum right then! But when his hand moved inside, my dick jumped and moved under his hand like it was shooting cum all over the state of Indiana. I was embarrassed because I knew he could tell that I just got my shorts wet. His thumb brushed over the tip where it was wet, and he tickled it. I squirmed like crazy, trying not to squeal like a girl.
He stopped kissing me so that he could get my jeans off. It was so incredibly embarrassing. A guy was taking my clothes off! A totally hot, cute, nice, adorable guy! Taking my clothes off! And he wouldn't let me help. He told me to lay still. He came back up and felt my junk through my briefs, grinning at me. So embarrassing! But, oh man, it felt so good! When he took my briefs off, I didn't know if I should die of embarrassment or sexual tension.
"Wow. Fucking perfect. I knew you'd be so hot."
"It's like the perfect one. Right out of a health class book. So... perfect!"
He wrapped his fingers around it. It throbbed like never before. We grinned at each other. So embarrassing!
"The best fucking balls, ever!"
Yup, embarrassment, for sure. I just hoped I lived long enough to not die a virgin.
Then put his mouth over it. It was so warm! And soft! And his tongue felt like velvet wrapped in clouds. Then I felt the most extreme sensation of my life. I'd been able to suck my own head, just the first inch or so, for a couple of years, but it felt nothing like what he was doing. It was so many times more wonderful!
"OH, MY, GOD!"
The sight of his mouth on my dick was almost as exciting as the feelings that were raging through it and up through my entire body. It hurt to move my sore shoulder, but I put both hands on his head and held on for dear life! It felt like a string of pearls were being pulled slowly up through my urethra. Warm, soft, electrified pearls.
When he put his hand around my balls, and started rolling them, that familiar churning exploded from under them, and before I could say a word, I was firing off the largest orgasm of my life! I couldn't breathe, let alone talk, and there was no way to warn him. And it got even more incredible! I thought my balls were turning inside-out! I made small choking noises, and my breath was broken and short. Every muscle in my body was tense and rigid. I'd never cum like that before! It was beyond incredible. It was soul-shattering.
He moved up and down on my dick, sucking the whole time, and obviously swallowing. And I kept cumming. And cumming. I thought I was going to go insane, it felt so incredibly good! It started feeling like tickling taken to the most extreme level! I couldn't stand it! I tried pulling him off.
"Please!" I begged. "Stop! It... oh, God, stop!"
He did, thankfully. The incredible sensations faded slowly, and my body began to uncoil. I began breathing again, in fast, ragged gasps. I don't know when I closed my eyes, but I finally opened them.
He was still kneeling on the floor between my thighs, grinning up at me, his hands running up and down my thighs. God, that felt so good. I laughed and dropped my head. It was even more embarrassing now.
"I guess I did it okay?" he asked.
"If not, I hate to feel it done right. Holy shit!"
I kept giggling. They were out of my control. My body shivered all over. He kissed my balls, then up the bottom of my dick. When he kissed the tip, my whole body jerked. Then he kissed up to my navel, licking there, too. Then up my belly, chest, both nipples, then my neck. He stopped kissing, and lay next to me. He was grinning so cute. I leaned sideways, not caring that it hurt my sore shoulder, and kissed him soundly.
Yeah, I tasted my cum and my cock on his lips, but I had directly before, anyway. I only cared that he might think it was gross, so I stopped suddenly. He came in and kept them going, though. His hands roamed all over me, and that tickled so much. I giggled and wiggled.
"You're so fucking hot," he breathed.
"I'm not!" he said, sounding almost angry. "Why don't you believe me? You keep saying you're not."
"I know I'm a-"
"Hot mother-fucker," he finished, then started kissing me again, his arms going around me.
I was in heaven. Or just filled with bliss. I could have stayed there like that forever. Easily.
But I wanted him, too. I started sliding down, kissing his neck, then his nipples. They were so hard. I loved it. His strong pectoral muscles felt so good under my hands. His chest hair wasn't thick, but it was perfect. And it almost continued unbroken down his front to his navel, where it grew thicker and travelled the rest of the way to his thick bush. His enormous cock was there, sticking almost straight up. It was so smooth, and thick, and perfect. His big head was nearly purple, and smooth and perfect in itself. The hole was surrounded by wetness, and it was almost aerodynamic. The gentle edges were almost nonexistent. Up close, it was a work of art. And his smell there was like pure lust distilled.
I wrapped my hand around it. It felt like a thick sausage. Hot, soft yet hard, smooth. I loved it. I stroked it several times, and a huge drop of pre-cum gathered at the tip. I started to put my mouth over it, eager to taste it, but he pulled my head up.
"No, don't. That's... that's what, what I made you do."
He looked so concerned, or something. Like worried.
"This time I want it," I said firmly. "I did before, too. I noticed you didn't enjoy it. You didn't even get hard. Or cum. Why?"
"How could I? Making you do that?"
He started looking sad again.
"You really do... like me?"
He almost laughed.
"Since beginning of last year. When I saw you in the showers. So hot."
His hand brushed through my hair, so softly and gently. He smiled so sweetly.
"Come up here so I can kiss you again. I love kissing you, Steve."
"No," I said, a mischievous grin spreading on my face as the idea took form in my mind.
I licked his head, tasting that delicious pre-cum. His legs swung nearly together for a moment. I licked it again, and they moved again. I kissed it, then moved down, spreading my lips over it as I went down. I wasn't sure how hard to suck, and I didn't want it to hurt, so I sucked firmly. His breath caught and his body tensed. I moved down as far as I could, not even half of it in my mouth, and moved my tongue over it.
I tasted more pre-cum. It tasted great! His dick moved in my hand and mouth. I wanted to have it all again, but I couldn't. I figured I had to stretch out my neck in that same way to take all of it, even if I could. He was longer than the other guys were, so I wasn't able to get more than half of it in before I wanted to gag. But I did the best I could. I copied what he did to me. I bobbed my head up and down, used my hand on the bottom, and played with his balls.
"Jeeze!" he groaned loudly, his body shaking.
His powerful thighs rocked in and out, and his abs worked fantastically. It was amazing! And he tasted so good! And felt so good in my mouth and my hands. It was pure awesomeness! He started humping my mouth, and gasping.
"Steve! Fucking awesome! GOD!"
I just hoped it felt something like as good as what he had done to me. I bobbed quickly and sucked harder.
"I'm going off! Oh, GOD!"
His body tensed rigid, and his breath stopped. Then his cock danced in my mouth. Then I tasted his warm, thick, wonderful cum! His cock swelled up and more exploded into my mouth. I forgot to swallow, and it filled my mouth, running out past my lips. It made it slippery as my hand stroked up and down his shaft. He came more, and I swallowed again, and I tried to keep up, but either I was bad at it, or he came a huge amount. I think most of his wad ended up on my hand and in his pubes, but I swallowed and sucked until he pulled my head off and then upward until we met and kissed and kissed and kissed.
He rolled us over so that he was over me.
"Is your shoulder okay like this?"
I nodded, looking into his beautiful silver eyes.
He snuggled up with his leg over my thighs, his arm over my chest, his other hand cradling my head, and he kissed me until we were relaxed and breathing normal.
"I did okay?" I asked, finally having worked up the courage to ask.
He kissed me again, then looked right into my eyes with his silver ones, and smiled, and said, "Perfect. Like the rest of you."
I felt so comfortable there under him. We tickled and touched, smiling, not talking, until I fell asleep, warm, and cozy, and feeling safe for the first time I could remember.